The clerk with us hit a button to freeze the lift, clearing his throat and holding his hand out. “Your purse, Ms. Morgan. And your cap and ribbon, Mr. Kalamack.”

My grip on it tightened. I’d lost contact with the ley lines at about level three. There wasn’t much in the bag to begin with, but I was loath to let it go. One by one, I was being stripped of my defenses.

“And your phones?” he added smugly.

Sighing, Trent dug in his pocket. Expression amused, he handed the clerk his phone, cap, and ribbon.

I hesitated, but when Trent glanced at his watch, I shoved my bag at the clerk and stomped out of the elevator. Was I a demon, or was I a demon?

I swear, Trent was smiling when he caught up, slipping an arm in mine and slowing me down. Ivy was here somewhere. If they didn’t give her to me, I was going to tear the place apart. “I hope your chess game is better than mine,” I said softly.

“Me too,” he breathed, and I wondered where Jenks was.

“This way, please,” one of the men said, and I stifled a shiver at the two guards following. The walls were bright, and with the artwork from multiple periods and schools on the walls and pedestals, it felt as if we were in a museum. The air stank of vampire. No wonder Ivy had worked so hard to get out of here. Damn, my scar was tingling.

“You okay?”

“Ask me tomorrow,” I said as the escort stopped before a glass-and-wood door and gestured for us to enter. Heart pounding, I went first, thinking it looked like any other corner office apart from the no-window thing. “It’s better than an interrogation room,” I said, then spun when Cormel bustled in right behind us, his motions vampire quick.

“I don’t like it much either,” he said as he moved behind the opulent, but largely bare, desk. “This is my office. Please, sit down. We have time to chat before everyone arrives.”

“You mean Ivy, right?” I said, and he laughed, gesturing at the chairs.

“Sit down, Rachel.”

That made me feel oh so fuzzy and warm, and I eased into the leather chair closest to the door. Trent hesitated, then took the other. “I wasn’t aware that you worked for the I.S.,” Trent said.

Cormel laced his fingers atop his desk, clearly pleased. “I don’t. The office came with Piscary’s title. I do enough business here to warrant keeping it, but not enough to have a secretary. Thank you for saving me the effort to find you. Can I get you anything?”

My eyes narrowed. “Ivy,” I stated, and he smiled. It was the smile that had saved the free world during the Turn, but it fell flat against me.

“Pleasure before business,” he said, chuckling.